


SuperM: Super Ones

by nctytrack



Series: SuperM [1]
Category: EXO (Band), NCT (Band), SHINee, SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angels, Demons, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Magic, Superheroes, Supernatural Elements, Violence, some slow burn depending on the ship, there are some established relationships so dw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26515819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nctytrack/pseuds/nctytrack
Summary: In a world of superhuman abilities, holographic TV's, and unreal manifestations beyond any traditional science, the idea of the infamous "Higher Entities" being real was seen as ridiculous. They were like fairy tales, but Baekhyun was certain that his life-long belief was a reality, and was the sole reason as to why an inexplicable black portal had opened in the heart of the city.Determined to solve this case, he ventured to seek an unlikely team to help his endeavors as well as his secret motive. Except, he soon realized that keeping this small undisclosed detail to himself only made him a bad influence on the six other men. It didn't take long for him to question if they could work together long enough to stop a supernatural war.orSuperM Supernatural/Superhero AU//Tags will be updated as the story is updated//Character list will be updated when new people are revealed in the story
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Mark Lee, Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Series: SuperM [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1928167
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	1. Prologue

The Councilmen sat before him, sitting uncomfortably still and silent in their throne chairs as his knees were starting to burn from being pushed against solid gold. He kept his head low, but despite not seeing his superiors, he knew they were looking down at him with distaste, and likely even disappointment. It had only been seconds since he gave his proposal, however it seemed to feel like years. The Councilmen dragged on the silence, nothing but a sigh heard after the painful seconds passed.

“You are bold for requesting something so remarkable, Pawn,” Grandmaster professed.

A fowl taste formed in Ten Thousand’s mouth at the sound of his label. The lowest rank. It was a place where he didn’t belong, and The Councilmen knew that as well, but pretended to be ignorant to his true role.

“I understand, Grandmaster,” Ten Thousand agreed reluctantly but firmly, careful not to anger his superiors, “but this is-”

“Ridiculous. This is ridiculous,” a different, raspier voice said, evidently Master Y. He was Ten Thousand’s least favorite. Although he had never mentioned it to anyone, he didn’t need to. Everyone despised him, but knew better than to share that. “I can’t believe we’re even wasting our time with a Pawn when we could be planning our next attack!”

Ten Thousand resisted the temptation to spit back. It wasn’t easy for him to keep his mouth shut, and the same could be said about Master Y. Ten Thousand settled for biting his inner lower lip. At least he could say he had a slight bit of more self control. If he didn’t, he would have been banished from the legion by now (although, he had come very close on several occasions).

“Calm down,” Master Z said in a slow, poised manner, her voice like a flute yet filled with so much venom. “Do not get a heart attack. Need I remind you you’re getting old?”

Master Y coughed sporadically for a few seconds, coincidentally proving her point. If the tension wasn’t unbearable then, it definitely was now. Once again, silence enveloped the room. Ten Thousand was getting tired of staring at his pathetic reflection on the spotless floor he knelt on. He had been in the throne room more than anyone else, and for all the wrong reasons, according to the Councilmen.

“He is our plan for our next attack.”

Ten Thousand resisted a flinch, as well as the urge to gaze upon Grandmaster in complete shock. Instead he watched his own eyes widen before him.

“Sir?” he managed to say.

“What?” Master Y exclaimed at nearly the same time, expressing an equal amount, if not more surprise than Ten Thousand. “With all due respect, sir, this kid does not need any validation because his daddy was a high ranked soldier-”

“That’s enough.”

Ten Thousand couldn’t see what happened, but the lack of response from Master Y and the faint _woosh_ sound coming from his seat, he assumed the Master was willed away. Ten Thousand gulped, knowing the feeling much too well.

“Look up, Ten Thousand,” Grandmaster commanded, and he did right away.

The thrones were just as he remembered, minus the absence of Master Y. The empty gold and obsidian chair with black, velvet cushions was enticing. It was like his mouth watered at the thought of resting in it, facing Pawns such as himself and determining their fate. He itched to sit in the chair, just once to see what it felt like to be in power.

Grandmaster stared at him with his void, black eyes. Despite not having pupils, it felt like they were piercing through him, reading every move and every tick. Master Z similarly stared, although her menace usually stemmed from her words as opposed to her looks. Her soft exterior was simply a trick.

“You want to prove yourself, yes?” Grandmaster asked.

“Of course, sir,” Ten Thousand answered immediately.

“Then you may get a mission.”

Ten Thousand didn’t know what to say - in fact, it felt like he forgot how to speak entirely. Even Master Z had a subtle shift in her stoic expression, as if startled by the complete lack of thought Grandmaster gave to this decision. Although Ten Thousand wanted to feel excited, he had to agree with her at that moment.

Grandmaster raised his left hand, his palm facing the high ceiling, and a swirl of black dust appeared before Ten Thousand. From the sand-like powder, a black file materialized in physical form, hovering in front of his face. There was no label or writing on the cover, and yet Ten Thousand had a feeling this was not for just anyone to see.

“That is your mission. If you want a higher position, you will complete this swiftly and correctly,” Grandmaster said. “Do you understand?”

Ten Thousand could not take his eyes off of the file. There was no indication or clue as to what was waiting for him inside. It could be anything, but with such circumstances, he knew that whatever it was, it was not going to be easy.

“Yes, Grandmaster. I understand.”

Grandmaster nodded slowly, the first movement he showed since Ten Thousand arrived. Ten Thousand glanced at Master Z, but she remained quiet, her posture and expression unchanging. 

“Thank you,” Ten Thousand added. Just as he was about to grab the file, Grandmaster spoke up one last time.

“Your life depends on this.”

With those last words, the Councilmen disappear in swirls of black dust, leaving nothing but particles. Ten Thousand’s hand was suddenly frozen. Just a centimeter away from his destiny, and yet he did not realize that this was a matter of his own existence. Had he known, would he have accepted the offer?

This was the catch, he realized.

Ten Thousand, with a deep breath, took the file. He had to take the chance. If he wanted to amount to anything his father was, there was no other choice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I've had this superhero AU for SuperM for awhile and I am so glad that I've FINALLY published it. I'll be happy to read what you all think about it so far. Look out for chapter 1 coming out soon!


	2. Unrest in an Already Restless City

_To Agent Lee Taemin of the NCity District,_

_I hope this email finds you well. You are a smart man, so I presume you already know who I am. If you recall my previous message I sent approximately two days ago, you may remember me saying that the city is in dire need of your help. I would like to clarify that I was not trying to belittle your already great work ethic, and I apologize if that was the cause of your lack of response. So, to hopefully avoid any offense, perhaps I should just get straight to the point._

_Last week, you went off track during your case in NCity. You convinced yourself that it was relevant when nobody else believed you. However, I know a curious man when I see one. It’s no secret to me, and I can guarantee that the secret is_ _safe_ _with me. If you are wondering how I know this, all I must say is that I am exceptional at my job. I do believe that’s why your colleagues hate me. Might I say, I’m flattered by the popularity._

_They roam the streets, Mr. Lee. While this may not be particularly bad nor good, something sinister is approaching NCity - or, perhaps, it may already be here. Call me a wannabe detective or a snobbish reporter and throw me in the pile with all the others, but I believe I am right, and I know you feel the same way._

_Help me help you._

_xxx-xxx-xxxx_

_Your favorite journalist,_

_Byun Baekhyun_

Taemin paced steadily between his desk and the hologram that spanned his two bookshelves, sipping his morning coffee. The sun had just risen, illuminating every crevice of his spacious, yet humble office. It was a place of comfort for him - the warmth of the sunbeams bouncing off of his glossy white desk, the historic paperbacks sitting prettily on his metal shelves, the window panes that stretched from the floor to the ceiling - except, he was far from comfortable in that moment.

He was starting to think this Baekhyun guy was his secret admirer, aside from the fact that he was no secret at all. He was a well known name gossiped throughout the SHINEE; he was neither friend nor foe, simply a man doing his job (although that’s the argument all self-proclaimed professional journalists used when they wanted to get let off the hook). But Taemin seemed to always give him the benefit of the doubt when the jocular reporter got himself into trouble, for reasons that he didn’t quite know himself.

This certainly wasn’t the first message, and Taemin knew that if he ignored yet another one, this was not going to be the last. Normally, it’d be easy for him to swipe at the holo and address his other, more pressing matters of NCity pinging his inbox. But now, staring at the blue, translucent screen that was glowing of importance, he wasn’t so sure this time.

Baekhyun was watching him that day when he rode into NCity to assist a case. The thought made his skin crawl, startled by the sudden forwardness Baekhyun just showed. Taemin’s pointer finger tapped his coffee cup, uneasy about the subtle threat. Baekhyun was never malicious, but he was never this direct in the past either.

There was one thing Taemin knew for sure, however, and it was the only thing making him trust the man: Baekhyun was no liar.

A bright red rectangle notification suddenly appeared in the center of the hologram, breaking Taemin’s intense stare at the email. As if Baekhyun’s love letter was one of an annoying high school crush, Taemin unhesitantly answered the call. A different image materialized, revealing the upper half of his boss sitting at the head of their conference room table. He had his hands folded in front of him, and although he had a particularly serious demeanor, he greeted Taemin with a friendly smile.

“Taemin! Glad you picked up,” the team lead exclaimed.

“Of course, what do you need, Jinki?” Taemin replied, returning the amiable gesture.

Those who happen to witness the interactions that occur between the five lead agents of SHINEE will often be bewildered by the dynamic. The idea of using “sir” and “ma’am” and “boss” was engraved in Taemin while he was in training, but the team of lead agents were an exception. This was mostly due to Minho refusing to call Jinki his boss since they grew up together, and Jinki being too nice of a person to object the informalities. On top of that, having two “Lee’s” and two “Kim’s” did not make last names a viable option.

Taemin quickly realized that their team worked based off of Jinki’s morals and expectations. There was no rift between Taemin and his colleagues, and although Jinki was technically his superior, he was also his teammate. That was one of the only reasons Taemin stayed on the team.

“I want to move tomorrow’s report meeting to this afternoon, since our schedule is clear today. Would you be available?” Jinki said.

“Let me check,” Taemin replied, simultaneously swiping the live image of Jinki to the top left corner, minimizing it, and opening up a visual of his schedule for the day. Jinki allowed him to quickly scan through the hours, from top to bottom. “I have to help a case in NCity in about an hour. I would like to be back before sundown, but…”

There was a moment of silence, Jinki patient with Taemin’s continuation. What Jinki didn’t know was Taemin’s mind drifting back to Baekhyun’s email. It was eerily topical, considering what him and the NCT-F would have to deal with that day. Maybe Baekhyun knew about that too. He wouldn’t be surprised.

“It might be a tough one,” Taemin finished, and Jinki nodded.

“I understand. Let’s keep it for tomorrow then,” Jinki said, then immediately chuckled, seeming sheepish. “I guess that works out since Kibum boldly complained about how I already swarmed him with a lot of paperwork today.”

Taemin laughed lightly, knowing fully well that Jinki does not in fact overwork Kibum.

“Tell him to stop gossiping with the receptionists. Maybe then he could actually get things done,” Taemin said with an unrestrained smile, adding to the friendly stab by sipping his coffee afterwards. Jinki laughed whole-heartedly.

“We both know he’d never give that up,” Jinki said, and Taemin couldn’t help but agree. “Anyways, I have to talk to Jonghyun about a fraud case in the Metropolis. The Normal rich never get any easier.”

After saying their brief good-bye’s, Jinki’s video feed switched off, the window disappearing. Taemin manually swiped away the schedule, and all that was left in his view was Baekhyun’s message. His eyes, despite being disinterested minutes ago, found themselves peering at the words again.

_Help me help you._

With a deep sigh, Taemin closed the holo.

•───⋅⋅───•

Five years ago, when Taemin discovered his new promotion was to be the Overseer of NCity, his initial reaction was of absolute horror. He had never been to NCity, previously being a sheltered kid from a Normal, suburban neighborhood. Life in the Metropolis was an urban experience much different than the district known for its high crime rate and having more people than housing available. There was really only one reason for it, that being that Abnormals went straight to NCity for a safe life hidden within a vast population of inconspicuous party animals. It was no secret to anybody.

The sheer size of NCity combined with the new environment that didn’t speak lint-free suits and clean subway stations like the Metropolis did was a recipe for rookie anxiety. He nearly turned down the offer, if it wasn’t for Agent Minho vouching for him like the world counted on it. It didn’t seem right to reject something so important, especially if Minho - a man of intense passion that usually got what he wanted - was his primary recommender, as well as Taemin’s best friend. But Minho was the Overseer of the Suju District, and Taemin could have argued that looking over Suju was nothing like handling NCity. Suju had its moments, but nothing more than petty celebrity beef and mansion robberies.

The size of NCity wasn’t the only thing that kept Taemin reluctant to take the job. On top of the countless cases that would keep Taemin busy, the more people there were in an area, the more Normal enemies there were. As a kid, Taemin had trouble grasping this concept. He was naive to those who despised Abnormals. Realistically, it should’ve made sense to him when he heard the name they were given. _Abnormals._ As if they were alien, unlike humans despite having full human qualities most of the time. But his parents explained that he was just raised differently, surrounded by inconspicuous Normals who didn’t know his power because his was very easy to control and hide.

At first, making forcefields and shields seemed dull compared to the Abnormals people whispered about in the hallways. It wasn't like breathing fire or controlling object with your mind. It wasn't popular - but it wasn't ridiculed, because his classmates didn't know it existed. Taemin's ability was powerful, protective, yet drew no attention to him in the slightest. He supposed that’s why he was recruited into SHINEE at such a young age.

In the end, Taemin took the job, but to his surprise he got used to it a lot quicker than he imagined. He figured it was mostly because of how in awe he was sight-seeing the neon lights and insanely strange yet appealing street fashion. It was like every person walking down the congested thoroughfares had a story written on themselves for others to gaze at and wonder. It was certainly a new experience for Metropolis-born Taemin, who was so used to being surrounded by white-collared businessmen and quiet families.

His first visit to NCity, however, he found that there were shockingly faster ways to get around the district. The subways here were fast, but constantly in high demand and, quite frankly, were not hygienic enough for Taemin’s comfort level. There was only one other viable option that could get him to the NCT-F headquarters quickly and in a _mostly_ safe fashion. Safer than being within a foot of potentially mutant rats and sketchy Abnormals in a high-velocity cage.

“Taemin!”

Taemin turned just as he stepped out of a coffee shop, a place bustling with newcomers and individuals entering the district border. He spotted his ride by the sidewalk - a gold, spotless motorcycle with luminescent wheels that screamed for attention, accompanied by a man sitting up front, equally as eye-catching. His attire was the typical gold leather jacket that matched his prized vehicle with casual black jeans and boots, topped off with a shiny, reflective helmet that honestly seemed like a hazard to other drivers. But this was Lucas, city-loved cyclist that made people head-over heels for him by just existing, so it wasn’t like he could get in trouble for anything anyway.

Taemin gave Lucas a bright smile to match the one he was receiving, walking towards his driver. He swung his leg over the seat behind Lucas, getting himself comfortable as Lucas handed him a spare helmet. Taemin was already starting to feel his stomach churn in anticipation of the ride. Despite doing this many times already, it was like it never got any easier. 

“How’s my favorite customer?” Lucas greeted, and as expected yet not at all at the same time, Taemin immediately felt at ease by the sound of his voice.

“Currently trusting my favorite driver with my life,” Taemin replied with a small laugh free of nerves, slipping on the helmet.

“Oh, come on,” Lucas dismissed, his grin unfaltering. “You’re like a pro now!”

“A professional motorcycle passenger?”

“Yes. I made it up, so it’s a real thing.”

And with that, Lucas revved the engine, cuing Taemin to hold on tight. With a foot on the gas pedal, the bike propelled forward and slipped into traffic like a fish joining a school, only with enough force to kill another fish if it went wrong. On his first ride years ago, Taemin swore that a vehicle would be physically incapable of starting at that speed, but soon figured that there were much crazier things in this world.

Lucas swerved and dodged in between vehicles that had sat idle in the congestion, bolting down the street like it was a race against absolutely nothing. Taemin liked to look around on these rides, although there wasn’t much to see through the blurred lines and his exhilaration telling him to focus on not falling off. But occasionally, Lucas would be forced to “slow” down, and Taemin could observe the buildings to continuously familiarize himself with the place.

He had to admit, as scared as he was initially with NCity, the place was a work of art. The billboards and bright neon signs splash color in every perspective, accenting the tall corporate structures and small stall businesses alike. Even the graffiti sprayed on almost every surface imaginable were more like murals; some were simple words or phrases, but many were floors tall, full of color and organic images either demanding equality or advocating drugs. Sometimes both.

This place thrived on self-expression, and Taemin couldn’t help but to admire it every time he came.

In just about five minutes, Lucas stopped in front of Taemin’s destination. Being able to make it from the edge of the border all the way to the heart of NCity in one piece _and_ in that amount of time was the only reason as to why Taemin trusted this one man more than a subway full of passengers.

The NCT-F station was large, mirroring the city itself, and modern enough to stand out amongst the cyberpunk counterparts to the district. Like most of the buildings here, it was tall and littered with windows, the only stark differences being the white-tiled courtyard leading to the main doors and the big white letters above the entrance labeled “NCity Task Force Headquarters.” 

Taemin hopped off, pulling off the helmet and handing it back to Lucas.

“When should I pick you up?” Lucas asked, taking a brief moment to check something in the side mirror. It didn’t take even a second to realize that it was himself he was checking out.

“Might be a long day,” Taemin replied. “I’ll call you this evening, most likely. If you’re not busy, of course.”

Lucas turned to his motorcycle dashboard.

“Xu,” he said, “what’s my schedule tonight?”

An automated female voice sprung to life, as well as a vertically standing mini holo reflecting the content from his dashboard. _“You have a date with - ‘Cute Girl from that One Diner I Think Her Name was Hannah’ - today at five PM.”_

Taemin gave Lucas a playful raised eyebrow as the cyclist sheepishly rubbed his neck and let out an embarrassed chuckle.

“Uh, yeah, I can pick you up tonight. After ten, maybe,” Lucas said quickly, swiping down the holo. “Do you want to pay now or-”

“I can pay later. I think you should think about that date,” Taemin replied, nudging Lucas in the arm. “What was her name again?”

Lucas shook his head with a smile, flipping his visor back on. Taemin laughed as he walked off, listening to Lucas rev off into the distance. 

NCT-F’s headquarters was jarringly different from the SHINEE headquarters. The purpose was mostly the same, but it was the interior that captured a completely different personality. The hallway leading down to the main conference room, for one, was only illuminated by narrow skylights and a glass floor. Peering down, you could see LED lights lining the edges of the hallway that faded into a different color every so often, painting the industrial white walls. It almost felt like even in here, there could be a rave waiting to happen.

The hallway curved, as the building was essentially one giant cylinder with a crosswalk in the center, in case one needed to get to one end from the other quickly. The conference room was close, so Taemin only needed to walk the perimeter. He peered into a couple rooms here and there. Each one, whether it be a meeting room, an office, or a training center, was usually full and busy, to no doubt at all. Taemin would argue they’re just as busy as the SHINEE. Comparing NCT-F to SMTown’s national intelligence organization was no exaggeration once considering the size of NCity to their manpower; NCT-F was massive, but so was the city.

Taemin approached the open sliding door, people whom he recognized already inside. They wore their distinct, shiny badges on their dark evergreen vests, symbolizing their statuses. It was like police boy scouts, giving the men friendly competition sometimes. Nonetheless, everyone in this room was littered with badges, which was no surprise since this was Seo’s team: the esteemed Supernatural Subunit of NCT-F, and the best one Taemin’s ever had to work with.

That was both reassuring and concerning as Taemin walked into the room full of badges. If all of them but Seo himself and their rookie Kim-J were here, which meant this was a very serious case.

“Agent Lee.” Taemin turned to the voice, seeing Jung coming towards him with a hand out. Taemin took it, giving him a pat on the back as the other did the same. “Good to see you.”

“You too,” Taemin said sincerely. He glanced around. “Where’s Seo and Kim-J?”

Jung led Taemin to the evidence hologram. They passed by other members of the team, Taemin greeting each one he was able to see with fleeting bows and waves.

“They’re doing a patrol,” he said, and they reached the front of the room. He leaned in closer to Taemin. “If it were up to Seo, he would’ve put someone else on the job so he could be here, but apparently our director specifically requested him and Kim-J.”

Taemin nodded knowingly. “You know, these visits are getting scarily more frequent.”

“Yeah,” Jung admitted. “Although, the circumstances haven’t been favorable.”

“What do you mean?” Taemin questioned, setting down his backpack in the empty seat right in front of the board. 

“Moon did a census check last night. It took longer than usual,” Jung replied. “Abnormals on the streets increased by nearly nine-percent.”

This made Taemin raise an eyebrow. “Nine? Compared to, what, a month ago?”

“Three weeks. We decided to do a census check earlier than usual because of the recent attacks,” Jung said. He flipped the evidence board to its back counterpart, showing a map of SMTown. NCity was highlighted in green; Suju in blue; the Metropolis in pink. Jung pointed to a particular region in NCity, around the southwest. “Most of the influx was in this area.”

Taemin tilted his head. “That’s about ten miles south from here. I mean, I know the heart of the city is pretty popular, but it isn’t _that_ popular.”

“Usually during the summer time, the biggest influxes would be at NCity’s borders as more people want to vacation here," Jung said, agreeing. "This is just completely off pattern.”

Taemin nodded. Before this conversation could continue, black hair peeked from the corner of Taemin’s eye. Officer Kim - not to be confused with Kim-J - leaned towards them, away from the conversation he was having with Officer Moon. Kim, ever so punctual, tapped his watch at Jung.

“It’s almost eight.”

Jung nodded, and they broke off, silently agreeing that the two of them would discuss the matter later. Taemin moved his bag to the floor to take his seat, everyone else realizing the atmosphere and following suit. 

Seo’s team - excluding Kim-J and Jung, who stood up front - filled up the seats around the round table. Jung cleared his throat.

“I know you read the file, Lee, but I’ll re-brief the case for everyone to freshen up our memory,” Jung began.

The team lifted the built-in holo screens from the table to follow along with what he was explaining. Kim, who took the seat to the right of him, already had his holo open, typing away aggressively on his keyboard. Taemin wanted to comment on the mannerism, but figured whatever he was doing was probably important to the case, so he let it slide.

The extent of Taemin’s knowledge was that there were two ambiguous attacks throughout NCity. Once a week in two different, seemingly random locations: a dry-cleaner’s and a bar.

Taemin flipped through the crime scene photos on his holo as he followed along with Jung’s recounting of events. The damage done became significantly more noticeable at each location. The dry-cleaner’s suffered five broken turbo washers, to the absolute dismay of the owner, but the more compelling details were the stolen e-currency and an injured man. 

The preceding location held similar patterns, or as they called it, “MO.” Whether it be broken tables and chairs, or a smashed display case full of wine, there was damage. The store’s unit supply would be emptied completely, and someone would get caught in the crossfire.

Several things stumped the team, one of which was the witnesses - or, lack thereof. One would assume the amount of recollection 10-15 people would have after having witnessed such an unbelievable sight would be perfect. Turned out, there was no such luck. To the team’s shock, the only thing the Normals could really explain was the perpetrator’s appearance. A male with pale skin wearing all black, a specific detail being his long black coat. With such a drastic outfit in a city full of colors and bright lights, they were appalled to find out that even after showing the bar’s partially-destroyed camera footage to the public, nobody could seem to spot him anywhere.

“So, our potential theories include overkill theft, and property damage with personal intentions or acting out a delusional cause,” Nakamoto said from across the table. He was leaning back in his chair, hand combing through his short silver hair, one that Taemin would be lying if he said he didn’t envy the style. “To be honest, none of those really sound plausible anymore.”

“I would agree,” Taemin concurred. “If I’m being honest, this attacker seems more organized than we thought.”

Jung leaned against the wall. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, there’s obviously a pattern here. It only seems sporadic because he’s probably evolving. Figuring out which ways of committing this crime work.”

“But what _is_ this crime?” Moon asked, who sat besides Nakamoto. “Do you think this is all leading up to something? Like, stealing the units to get somewhere that required a lot of currency?

“I don’t think so,” Taemin said. “Why go through the trouble of stealing from two different locations for money when he could have just stolen enough from one place? Or, knowing this is allegedly an Abnormal, go straight to the final location?”

“Maybe he doesn’t have the time or abilities to pull off a bigger heist. Or he’s a little inexperienced,” Moon retorted. Being the eldest on NCT-F, Taemin couldn’t deny that Moon has had a lot of experience on the task force, working for almost as long as Taemin. He was inclined to agree with his point, knowing it was valid.

“But it doesn’t make sense for him to cause so much damage if he just wanted currency. That’s atypical of robbers,” Jung reasoned, and now it was Moon’s turn to feel convinced.

“He’s looking for someone.” Everyone turned their heads to Kim, who stopped typing and abruptly stood up from his seat. “May I?”

Jung stepped aside as Kim rushed to the board. He waved to control the holo, swiping up various files. Tabs opened rapidly, hands flying all over the screen. What came up were the three crime scenes - specifically, the damage dealt.

Kim was having what the team liked to call “a moment,” where his genius brain fits the pieces of the puzzle perfectly in his mind. Although many of them still didn’t quite understand his quirk, they let him do his “moment” whenever he felt like it, because he was usually right.

“Judging by the evident intent this guy has for doing damage, the money is not important - in fact, it plays an entirely different role,” Kim said.

“How do you know he’s looking for someone?” Nakamoto asked, and soon after Moon tried to get him to stop. It wasn’t like Nakamoto meant to doubt his colleague, as it was a simple question, but working with Kim, one soon realized that he was no ordinary Abnormal, let alone person. Kim seemed to not care this time around, ignoring and sparing Nakamoto. Not that Nakamoto was ever scared of anything in the first place.

“Every single place has something in common,” Kim reasoned, circling one particular spot in each scene. “A casualty.”

The members nodded, following along, but as always are waiting for a more convincing explanation.

“Couldn’t that be a coincidence? Like they got in the way?” Nakamoto challenged, and Moon nudged Nakamoto in the ribcage.

“No,” Kim said flatly, not sparing Nakamoto a glance, “because every single casualty was an Abnormal. Statistically speaking, that is no coincidence.”

Nakamoto looked like he wanted to get out another thought, but Jung glared at the daredevil and he reluctantly shut his mouth.

“Judging by where the damage originates from - which is where the victim recalled standing at the moment of the attack - the damage done everywhere else is just collateral,” Kim proclaimed. “In fact, yes, the attacker is organized, but his power is too uncontrollable to contain in one area.”

The way Kim spoke as if leading up to one final point, along with the stress on “uncontrollable power,” made Taemin uneasy. The explanation Kim was providing sounded problematic for the city, but nonetheless reasonable. Rogue Abnormals were not their favorite kind of criminals.

“What about the units?” Jung asked, like he was trying to avoid the inevitable truth.

“A countermeasure,” Kim said. “There's been a case with this aspect about ten years ago. Without the money, it’s easy for everyone to believe that this was the doing of an Abnormal. It would cause a rampage. But the money is just an easy way for people to be confused, enough so that the possibilities are more endless. After all, this case already got leaked.”

Taemin couldn’t help but to immediately think of Baekhyun. No doubt that sly journalist picked up on the pieces, however he may have done it. Taemin still was unsure as to what this man’s ability was, despite Baekhyun likely knowing exactly what his was. He’s had theories - invisibility, psychic powers, charm, anything that could get him what he needed - but he wouldn’t know until he met him. The email from this morning was sitting enticingly in his inbox, but he shook his head to stay focused.

“It’s like he’s doing things he learned how to do, but has never actually done it before,” Taemin added on. The rest of the team seemed visibly confused, but before he went on, Kim stepped in to finish his thought.

“Yes. For example, the money,” Kim said. “That’s pretty clever considering the fact that stealing isn’t limited to Abnormals, so police - us - _would have_ been scraping the barrel to figure out who the robber was in this city. But how could he be smart enough to do that, then leave so much unnecessary destruction that allows us to theorize abilities _and_ for him target the wrong person twice?”

“If he had stolen the money, killed the guy, and left no trace, he’d pretty much be out of our reach,” Jung said, nodding as he absorbed the theory.

“But he kept both of them alive,” Moon said, saying it as a statement, but the team understood his inquisitive intent. It was such a strange prospect in this situation. It seemed like nothing was adding up, despite having all this postulate. Even Kim, who was obviously confident in his elucidation, was slightly stumped, and most definitely annoyed as well.

“So,” Nakamoto spoke up, shifting in his chair, “what’s the motive?”

Nobody had an answer. Naturally, everyone turned to Kim, but he was unmoving, staring at the crime scenes with burning intensity. Cases like these always made the team uneasy. If Kim couldn’t figure it out from one discussion, that either meant there wasn’t enough evidence, or his theory was too preposterous to even consider.

Taemin was starting to get the feeling that it was the latter.

Before the conversation furthered, a knock came from the door. The team faced the entrance, peering at the two officers who had just arrived. The tall and fit Chief Seo stepped in, followed by the shorter, heart-faced Kim-J. Neither looked too happy, which did not bode well for Taemin. Seo, perhaps he could expect, but Kim-J's usual cheerful and quirky energy was not present, and that’s what worried him.

Seo looked around the room. “There’s been another attack.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this far - hello, and thank you! Leave a comment telling me what you think, I always appreciate feedback :)


	3. Crash and Burn

Minhyung could not remember the last time he felt this much overwhelming sentiment. All at once, seeing the matured face of his childhood ex-best friend attached to a now-older, taller man sent his mind into whiplash.

Several of the surrounding Stray Kids glanced at them, curious while readying the underground music lounge with its final touches. Minho's curious eyes peeking from where he stood decorating the wall did not go unnoticed, and Jeongin’s side-glances while he passed by on the way to the backstage area were not very subtle. Han didn't even try hiding it, staring at them while he mindlessly swept the platform floor.

It took every ounce of Minhyung’s body to not physically react in front of them, his leg twitching and mouth slightly agape. Minhyung was never one to reveal his emotional truths, but this one had to be especially hidden. Not only was it going to be utmostly incomprehensible to Normals, but Minhyung could not bring himself to reveal the one lie he had been keeping to himself for the past year and completely shatter the trust he had built.

Chan, the lounge owner, had always reassured Minhyung that if he ever had a problem with an upcoming opponent, that they would always take matters into their own hands to work something out. That promise from a long-time friend was definitely comforting during the time Minhyung was an upcoming artist in the underground community, but as he didn’t want to ever back down from any competitor that displayed a challenge, he didn’t think he’d ever take up the offer.

He still won’t, because even though he wanted to sit this one out, there was no way he could explain why.

“He was the first one to respond to the ad,” Felix told him last week while having a smoke on the escalator stairs of the abandoned train station, mildly discussing who Mark was going to battle against.

They sat idly at the very top, their backs facing the vast opening that revealed the sophisticated wasteland of District 9. Much of this part of the city was closed off due to vacancy, after it was destroyed by rampant raiders several years ago. But, despite the ghost town, the Stray Kids managed to single-handedly resurrect the life from this place by opening up a music lounge inside the underground train station. What was once an empty hall and rusty train tracks was now a small black stage on a bridge and a curtain divider in the back that held the backstage area and office entrance.

Below them was the open train tracks that dipped into the ground, which is where most people would hang around to rave and shove each other to the beat of the music. On the station platforms to the left and right were mostly empty aside from a pattern of lounge chairs and low tables, for those who would be concerned about keeping their limbs.

It was a Sunday, and no battles were scheduled for the next few days while they prepared for District 9’s biggest celebration of the year. The first day of summer beated Christmas in this city, and if Minhyung wasn’t NCity-born and binded to six hooligans at home, he probably wouldn’t mind living here because of their summer enthusiasm.

“He responded, like, the day of, right?” Minhyung asked, laughing lightly, although there was nothing particularly humorous about it.

“Yeah, Chan literally put it up and minutes later - boom. Name, age, picture, credentials, everything, emailed straight to my inbox,” Felix said. “Could’ve been waiting for the ad, for all I know.”

Minhyung nodded, then nudged Felix lightly. “Guess the Stray Kids Lounge is getting real popular now, huh?”

Felix laughed. “Says you. You’re literally our money-maker.”

The smile on Felix’s face tugged at Minhyung’s heart, and a fowl feeling entered his chest, to which he quickly recognized as guilt. For the millionth time that week, he felt the need to finally voice what’s been keeping him up all night. But like all the other times, he felt like this wasn’t the right moment - although, the fact that he didn’t even know when the right moment was supposed to be was even more frightening.

He wasn’t able to contemplate this further as Felix spoke again.

“Apparently, he’s a big fan of you,” he mentioned. “Might make a new friend.”

Minhyung raised an eyebrow in pleasant surprise. Minhyung always felt a sense of pride whenever he was recognized, despite the immense anxiety it gave him. His lifelong goal of becoming a rapper had its limits when he lived his life in secret from most of the world, so hearing that someone liked his craft was both flattering and terrifying.

"I'm looking forward to it," Minhyung said truthfully. "What's his name?"

"Ah, I don't remember. Chan was the one who looked over his application, he knows."

At that moment, the man mentioned called from below them.

"Oi, Felix! Come 'ere for a sec!"

Felix tossed his cigarette butt to the side, Minhyung following suit as he took this as his cue to leave. He settled for asking Chan some other time, currently more concerned with what food he was going to bring home that evening. He peered up at the sky that showed through the underground entrance, seeing the sunset. 

"I'll catch up with you, Felix, I should probably get home."

That led to the morning of the battle. Minhyung never did end up remembering to ask Chan who his opponent was, and by the time duel day came, he opted for just waiting until the mystery man walked down the escalator.

At approximately 10:00am, he did. Oh, how Minhyung wished he had remembered to ask.

•───⋅⋅───•

The morning of the battle, Minhyung awoke to the youngest among his family accidentally spilling an entire carton of milk on the floor while freestyle dancing in the kitchen. Minhyung honestly didn’t think his day would get any worse, until a certain tall brunette man walked down the escalator. His diamond-shaped face and warm expression were what he caught first. Then it was the slight timidness in his walk despite the way he loomed over most people that really confirmed his initial, extremely quick assumption. Minhyung couldn’t mistake this man with anyone else even if he tried.

“Minhyung! This is Sungchan.”

Felix spotted him on the stage just as he stepped through the curtain, holding a speaker with one hand by his side, now suddenly frozen in place like a deer in headlights. His fingers numbed, the weight of the speaker suddenly heavier in his grip. Minhyung was never an impressive liar - the moment Minhyung laid eyes on him, his eyes widened. The instinctive urge to run away washed over him instantly.

_What the hell is he doing here?_

“He’s your opponent tonight, so get acquainted with yourselves,” Felix said, patting Sungchan’s shoulder before walking off to one of the other Stray Kids decorating the wall.

Even though some of the Stray Kids were hanging around the main area, setting up various decor or checking equipment, Minhyung felt hopelessly alone with the man standing below him on the platform. A moment of staring ensued, and the longer it dragged on, the more Minhyung felt his feet’s will to run away.

He was dressed differently than he recalled from his childhood, although that wasn’t all that impressive considering the last time they saw each other was twelve years ago. But Minhyung couldn’t help but to be in awe of Sungchan’s bold fashion choices, that being monochrome joggers with a vague marble pattern, retro basketball sneakers, and a black long-sleeve with gold chain necklaces decorating his upper chest. Imagining kid Sungchan in these clothes nearly made Minhyung laugh.

Nearly.

Instead, a wave of loud memories briefly washed over him. Police sirens. Screams. Rain. Cold. A metal door. Looking at Sungchan, he could hardly recall the good times. Rather, the moment Minhyung could justly consider their last interaction a betrayal was the first memory to pop into his mind.

But Sungchan did not seem as phased, and that was what put Minhyung at unease the most. A nonchalant expression with a faint hint of curiosity graced Sungchan’s face, a look that shouldn’t belong to someone who was meeting the boy he turned away from twelve years ago. Minhyung, despite the indisputable evidence, momentarily doubted his mind. Was it possible that Minhyung was just getting it mixed up? Was it possible to meet someone with the same name and eerily similar facial features as your childhood ex-best friend? He didn’t think it was so likely, but at the same time, the lack of shock or bother from the other was telling him otherwise.

“Um, is there anything I can help with, Minhyung?” Sungchan said.

Minhyung unfroze from his position, blinking. That name coming from him didn’t seem right. “Oh, uh, yeah- I mean, no, I think we’re fine.”

Abruptly, Minhyung set the speaker down on the stage where he stood, turned his heel, and pushed back the curtain, praying Sungchan didn't follow. He hurriedly navigated through the backstage area, marching towards the hallway leading to the office. He was a foot from the door when he stopped himself in his tracks.

He breathed heavily, mind spinning.

He was overreacting. He had to be. That seemed to be the only logical explanation as to why he was the only one in that awkward transaction that visibly looked uncomfortable. Minhyung felt less angry and more perplexed, surrounded by his thoughts alone in the hallway.

He recalled Felix mentioning that he was a fan of his. Maybe he was truly just an admirer that happened to have the same name as his betrayer. After all, Minhyung hadn’t actually seen the Sungchan in years. The world was big enough to have two similar looking people with the same name.

_Right?_

A resounding crash of brick-like material colliding with the floor was heard from outside. Minhyung was not given any more time to dwell on his predicament, as if it was punishment for his past sins creeping back up on him, because with not a pause in the moment, a blood-curdling scream followed it.

Minhyung’s breath stopped. He dashed out of the hallway and heard a person from the office rush out, yelling for Minhyung. He didn’t answer, ripping the curtain open, and what he faced was a nightmare.

Flames engulfed the graffitied wall, crawling up from the sooted floor to the cracked ceiling, devouring Minho's hard work. Various Stray Kids ran around it on the platform, frantically batting it with any blanket or suppressor they could. The fire was manageable, so Minhyung wasn't panicked just yet. He saw Han sprint to the stage.

“I’m getting the fire extinguisher!” he yelled, shoving past them. “Help Chan and Felix!”

Minhyung furrowed his eyebrows, whipping his head around to navigate the smoke.

“Minhyung! Over there!”

Minhyung followed the finger that pointed from behind him, recognizing it as Changbin, who was their audio technician that probably came from the office. He waved away some smoke to peer through it. He saw them. He saw them as clear as day.

Now, he was panicked.

“Felix!” Minhyung cried out, jumping off of the stage, nearly dropping between the crevices of the tracks but managed to keep his balance.

His eyes were trained on the boy struggling underneath a fallen concrete column, his torso trapped in between it and a metal train track. Minhyung felt his heart sink at the sheer pain in his crumpled expression as the weight of the pillar crushed his back each passing second. Chan was knelt by his side, already attempting to lift the column to no avail. It seemed like his only success was offering desperate, comforting words.

A wave of heat washed over him, and unexpectedly a blast of fire aimed straight at him from his left. The fire from the wall was spreading, and fast. Through thick smoke and unbearable heat, Minhyung was unbothered as he slid to Felix’s side. Soon, the three boys got to work.

Chan coughed into his shirt, uncontrollable and sporadic.

“On three, lift!” he firmly ordered with some remaining energy. “One! Two! Three!”

Minhyung felt tears prickle his eyes, and the fumes were not the culprit. His innate response was already desperate to kick in.

_Nobody will notice. Just do it._

While the three boys struggled despite the numbers, Minhyung pathetically debated with himself. There was only one right answer, and yet fear still ran rampant in his veins. He was suddenly reminded of Sungchan once again. His presence taunted him. He had the audacity to wonder where he was, and if he got to safety in time, all while his real friend was pinned to the ground.

The station shook. The crack in the ceiling that Minhyung spotted from before broke further, the section above the escalators starting to cave in. Rocks fell and clashed against the metal, creating an unbearable noise.

The three of them simultaneously risked a look at the escalators. They were getting closed in.

“Come on! Let’s hurry!” Chan shouted. “One! Two! Three!”

It moved possibly a centimeter, only to surpass their strength. Felix bellowed in pain, desperately clutching Chan’s leg like his life depended on it.

In this case, it actually does.

_Felix is fucking dying in front of you, you idiot._

On the third attempt, Minhyung caved into his reasoning.

“One! Two! Three!”

The column lifted with such ease, Minhyung hardly needed to fake his relief. Minhyung used an arm to drag Felix out, and once his feet were past it, the pillar fell roughly back onto the ground. Chan wasted no time in lifting Felix as gently but as quickly as he could. He gave Minhyung a pained expression.

“The tunnel is collapsing. We need to get to the office. We have a secret bunker in there.”

Sure enough, peering up at the escalators, there wasn’t much there to escalate. The far left one was completely engulfed in flames, making Minhyung’s spine shiver. As for the other one, the time it took to rescue Felix was enough to render the stairs inaccessible, blocked by boulders and smoke. The top still had room to see the daylight shining through, but Minhyung doubted that that hope would lead them to survival.

“There’s still room to escape! We can make it if we leave now!” Changbin reasoned, who looked like he was struggling to even stand. Minhyung was suddenly made aware of the amount of suffocating smoke that was filling the station. He felt guilty for not being affected by any of it.

Jeongin yelled over from the platform, still trying to put out the fire.

“Guys, we should run to the tunnel! It’s-” he took a second to cough harshly in his shirt, “It’s right there!”

Indeed, up ahead of them was the tunnel that ran deeper into the train path. It was pitch black, all the lights seeming to have been broken by the current catastrophe.

“No, both are too risky! This whole place can come down at any moment, even the tunnel!” Chan definitely stated. “The bunker was made this type of occasion and is secure and big enough for everyone!"

Minhyung glanced at the escalators. It was the fastest way to leave. It was a direct shot into the outside world. It would take not even ten seconds for Minhyung to clear the path for his friends. A bunch of rocks and some fire wasn’t going to be a challenge.

But the police sirens. The rain. The chase.

He couldn’t risk it.

“Chan’s right,” Minhyung agreed. “You all go ahead.”

Minhyung pushed the Stray Kids towards the stage, not leaving room for argument. Chan seemed to pick up on this, as he looked eager to complain but was well aware that he had an unconscious man in his care. Chan made his hurried steps with an arm around Felix's waist, Minhyung helping the two take the tread.

Chan ordered the remaining Stray Kids on the platform to run to the bunker, noticing that the fire had not subdued in the slightest. In fact, the platform was nearly covered in it.

Jeongin, Hyunjin, and Han rushed out of the flaming circle to join them.

“Seungmin and Minho are already inside!” Han shouted, and pushed Jeongin and Hyunjin behind the curtain.

He leaned down to lend Chan a hand with Felix, carefully pulling him up to the stage. Once Felix was safely on the surface, Chan was next to climb on.

Minhyung reached up to grasp the edge of the stage, before an unexpected eruption of fire blasted at the side of his face.

“Minhyung!”

He didn’t even know who yelled his name. He didn't even know where the fire came from, the distance much too far from the main source above him on the platform.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around his mouth, another around his waist. He was yanked back by a vigorous force, his body colliding with another. Minhyung spent no time idling, immediately grabbing onto the arm of the attacker, but all sensations felt numb before he could react further. A straggled yell left him before a freezing shot down his spine.

Mark felt the heat rush out of him, despite still seeing fire as he was being dragged away. His legs stopped struggling. His arms stiffened. He couldn’t even feel his feet scrape against the gravel and shins bash into the side of the platform. His entire body chilled to an uncomfortable degree, and while he fearfully tried to force himself to warm up, the freezing ability from whoever this was overpowered Minhyung completely. His eyes widened as he was getting pulled deeper and deeper into the tunnel, the escalators far above his head and darkness consuming them both. With one last burst of retaliation, Minhyung craned his neck to see the kidnapper’s face.

The sight of brunette hair and a diamond-shaped face was his last impression before his vision went dark.

•───⋅⋅───•

“ZHONG CHENLE, I WILL NOT HESITATE TO POISON YOUR FUCKING DINNER TONIGHT!”

The sound of maniacal high-pitched laughter echoed in the hall leading to said boy’s bedroom, followed by a hurried slam of a door being shut. The older, angrier boy balled up his fists, stomping all the way to the thief’s whereabouts. Approaching the door, he began to raise his frail weapon before being abruptly interrupted by a set of broad shoulders sliding out of an adjacent room, blocking him.

“Get out of my way, Jeno.”

Jeno rocked back and forth on his heels, pursing his lips and looking into a far distance, as if genuinely considering the demand. For a moment, Renjun could have been fooled.

“No.”

Renjun tried shoving the taller boy back into his bedroom, to no avail. Each try was useless, Jeno’s body withstanding and unscathed. To add fuel to the fire, Chenle’s sonic laughter was joined by Jisung’s tame one, the two youngest members currently safe giggling behind the guarded door.

“Just let me kill him!”

“No.”

“Just this once!”

“No.”

“Then I’ll kill you first.”

“No?”

Renjun shut his eyes, exhaling deeply. In a flash, they opened again, feigning innocence conveyed by pouted lips.

“Please?”

Jeno scrunched his nose. “Ew.”

An exasperated groan let itself be heard from a frustrated Renjun, now Jeno the one to laugh.

“What are you kids doing?”

The sing-song voice of the den’s culinary expert reached the boys from the kitchen, the sound of plates being placed on the wooden table indicating that lunchtime was nearly here. Renjun was suddenly aware that poisoning Chenle’s fried chicken would get the job done much quicker than waiting for the evening to arrive, and briskly turned to march towards the kitchen. Jeno curiously followed, for he didn’t know the situation either, and it didn’t seem like the teens were coming out any time soon.

Jeno walked out of the hallway, seeing Renjun already venting to Jaemin, who was politely listening as he portioned the home-cooked meal onto seven plates.

“The little shit thinks he owns everything,” Renjun spat. “I bought that retro console with my hard-earned money! What kind of privilege does Chenle think he has? What, since he’s younger than me, I have to share? No, he needs to learn to work for things himself!”

Jaemin just chuckled, which Jeno could only imagine was not the kind of response Renjun wanted.

“I mean, they might not be kids anymore but in our eyes they might as well be, right? We have the responsibility to take care of Chenle and Jisung no matter how old they are,” he replied. “So, you know, doesn’t hurt to be a cool older brother every once in a while.”

Jeno leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, admiring Jaemin’s rationale and snorting at Renjun’s defeated posture.

“I hate it when you have a reasonable response to something I say,” Renjun grumbled.

“Why, because I’m smarter than you?”

“No, because it’s such a rare occurrence.”

Renjun earned himself a flick on his forehead, yelping and rubbing the wound.

Jeno continued to listen to the two’s amusing conversation, while occasionally tuning into the competitive sounds of the two youngest playing video games on Renjun’s beloved console, but suddenly realized the lack of two particular characters in the den. It wasn’t difficult to conclude that neither of them were present, as a full house of seven was never usually this quiet.

“Where’s Haechan and Mark?”

Jaemin placed the last piece of fried chicken on the plate at the far end of the table. He momentarily paused at the question, as if just realizing the vacancy as well.

“Well I told Haechan to go grab some milk because I realized we ran out,” Jaemin started. “He should be back soon. As for Mark…”

The three of them all peered at the clock hanging on the wall right above the front door. It was nearing two in the afternoon, ten minutes after Mark agreed to have lunch at home. It typically was no shock to have Mark arrive late, so Jeno just shrugged.

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and the three boys looked to see which one had arrived. It was Haechan, who Jaemin noticed was empty-handed. He frowned, setting down his pan on the table in slight disbelief.

“Haechan, where’s the milk?”

Haechan’s hair was bright orange. He started dying it like that a few months ago because Mark thought it suited him. “Full sun,” a name fitting for a boy that wielded the power of the earth’s star. His energy was unmatched, both power-wise and personality-wise. But at that moment, entering the den and rushing past Jaemin without a word, it was almost like that boy was entirely gone.

The three boys watched carefully as Haechan strode to the living room, his hand reaching straight for the holo-TV control system. It levitated to his eye level from the coffee table, and the news channel came to life on the screen.

A professional-looking woman appeared, standing in a desolate place of sandy stone bricks and in-grown vegetation. Behind her was smoke and what seemed to be a caved-in tunnel. Except, it wasn’t just any caved-in tunnel, and that wasn’t just any desolate town.

“Is that…?”

Jaemin didn’t want to finish his sentence. Instead, they listened intently to the reporter, all eyes on the screen.

_“...eight boys were fortunately rescued from this disaster, found safe in a bunker underneath the tracks. Only one boy was severely injured, however, paramedics on the scene concluded that he will be okay and will be sent to the hospital for treatment.”_

Jaemin covered his mouth, Jeno putting an arm around his shoulders for immediate comfort. Renjun's mouth was agape in utter disbelief. Haechan kept watching.

_“Chan, the owner of the ‘Stray Kids Music Lounge,’ reports that there are currently two missing people from the establishment.”_

Jeno felt Jaemin shaking under his touch. “Wait...no...no..."

The boys watched as the scene cut to Chan, a man they’ve all heard a lot about but haven’t met in person before. Seeing him on the screen was almost bittersweet. There was nothing welcoming about seeing Mark’s friend in this circumstance.

His face was completely sooted and red, almost like he crawled out of a furnace. His black shirt was torn at the shoulder, and as he spoke, they noticed the raw, scuffed, and slightly bloodied hands. A paramedic in a bright green uniform held a healing wand near his face, and Renjun tilted his head.

“What’s an NCity paramedic doing in District 9?”

Nobody had an answer, and nobody wanted to answer, too focused on Chan’s next words.

_“W-we had two guests today for our show and- and I don’t know, I was with Minhyung I mean, I saw-”_

Jeno frowned. “Minhyung?”

_“-he was with me! He helped me save Felix and pushed us to get to the bunker before himself and- he got hit by fire, I think, then just vanished. I hope Sungchan is alright too, I hope they got to safety together.”_

Jaemin couldn’t seem to stand anymore, and Jeno sat him down on the couch, neither peeling their eyes away from the screen. Renjun’s eyebrows stayed furrowed, baffled. Haechan stood just where he was before, unwavering. His fists were tightly clenched by his sides.

The scene cut back to the reporter.

_“Everyone is grateful that this catastrophic occurrence hadn’t happened an hour later, when the lounge was scheduled to open to the public for District 9’s annual summer celebration. More casualties would surely have occurred. Now, we will put the information of the two missing men on the screen. If you find them, please contact the services provided at the bottom of the screen immediately.”_

A picture of someone none of the boys recognized appeared on the left. It was a generic graduation portrait, his features somewhat soft yet prominent, his hair a dark brown. Although, none of that interested them. What caught their eye was Minhyung’s identification.

“That’s Mark.” Jeno knew it was an obvious statement. The black hair parted at the side, high cheekbones, slightly melanin skin, awkward yet charming smile, and white graphic tee Haechan bought him for his birthday two years ago were complete dead giveaways. But the shock was enough for him to have to say it out loud. “Why is his name Minhyung?”

It seemed like him, Jaemin, and Renjun simultaneously assumed that the answer was likely with Haechan, who had barely moved from his spot the entire time. Their gazes transferred to him, all of them confused, disturbed, and terrified. They realized Haechan was feeling the same way, as he was visibly at a loss for words.

“I don’t know,” Haechan finally said. “But that’s Mark. Definitely.”

The reporter turned into white noise as they showed the devastating scenery of the lounge. Nothing was intact. A boulder had struck the stage center-on, cracking it down the middle. The couches looked roasted from the inside out. Debris covered all surfaces, looking difficult to even walk through.

Each boy’s imagination ran through the awful possibilities. The fear Mark must have felt when facing his own power. To be crushed and burned by what you control. A shroud of grief blanketed the room, suffocating them.

Haechan abruptly shut off the holo, startling the other three boys. They stared at him, wide-eyed. He turned to face them, determination in his eyes, tenacity in his veins. He didn't need to say anything. Mutual understanding was simply a given in this household. Words weren't needed for obvious decisions, especially when it came to saving their friends.

Especially when it came to Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been over two months since I've updated this and I'm sorry :'(  
> But I am back with the second chapter at last! Let's just say I rewrote this chapter about 5 times and FINALLY said fuck it, this is the one.
> 
> Any feedback is greatly appreciated! Also comment what you think Mark's ability is hehe.


	4. Memory 001 / Heaven's Savior

There was something so serene about the consistency of bloodshed. The young general’s routine certainly did not lack any of it. The Divine War was a grand example of such indifference to who was involved; death was inevitable, even in the Heavens. 

The general stared upon the bloodied field from atop a hill, eyes looking upon the usually tranquil grassland. The Golden Meadows were appropriately named after its constant state of noon, the sun’s light perfectly bestowing upon the land where no shadow can hide. It was barren most of the time, until they found it useful in times of conflict. The meadows spanned for miles, and on that day, so did the bodies. Most were of his allies. They were hit with a surprise attack on their own turf, costing them an advantage.

From where he stood, surveying the battle, he witnessed it all. The blood. The cries. The limpness of each dying comrade. Recognized as a man of great compassion by his colleagues, he was never afraid to admit the pain he felt seeing others suffering. Frankly, his view on war was nothing more than unnecessary slaughter. However, more than anything, the general was never one to turn his back on those in need, and at that moment, it was his allies who were seeking his leadership. His allies, who were all occupied with fighting for their life.

The general pondered on his last thought before settling with a strategy. Before he could descend down the hill, however, a rustle came from behind him. If there was supposed to be an element of surprise, that certainly wasn't achieved. In one swift motion, the general materialized his glowing blade in hand, turned, and shoved his sword forth. In a split second, the tip reached the stomach of an enemy, but just as quickly, they disappeared. A figure is immediately shown in his left peripheral, and the general spent no time turning to see his attacker. They faced one another in a standstill, the grass swaying indifferent to the tension.

The enemy's black, leathery wings were spread to their farthest points, as was the general's illuminating, feathery ones. The man's dark eyes glared into the general's hazel-gray, a fiery passion burning within the both of them. It always humored him how similarly the two breeds were built, yet how differently their destinies paved out. It was a straightforward premise to their war, one he has been putting his life on the line for for 14 years, ever since he arrived in the Heavens.

A cocky grin was on the man's face. "Heaven's Savior, in the flesh," he said. "What'd you do to earn that name?"

The grip of the angel’s sword tightened, determined to transfer every bit of reaction from his face to his hands.

"Are you trying to taunt me? Or are you interested in some light conversation?"

The demon only grew more amused, smirking. His hands loomed in front of him, palms open, ready for his dark abilities. The angel dared not to be distracted, knowing that the work of a demon was nothing to underestimate, even if it was coming from a foolishly audacious one.

"I'd love to learn all about who I'm going to destroy, but I personally think that'd be a waste of my time," he responded, voice dripping with venom and enough coyness to make the general's blood boil.

"Well then. Come on and make it quick, yeah?"

Indeed, there was no time left unused. The demon lunged forward, palms ablaze with black hellfire. The angel bounded ahead, sword front, a blinding white aura surrounding him.

He would show just exactly how he got that name.

In a flash, the angel slashed forward. His blade sliced against skin, but the demon recovered and a bloodied palm reached for his throat. Ducking, the angel rolled to the side, unable to get proper footing before he was attacked by a newly conjured dark spear. He blocked it, little hesitation between either as imperial weapons clashed. Hellfire emitted from the demons spear, sparks flaking onto the angel’s skin and burning upon touch. The angel grunted in pain as another blow came at him head-on, barely getting his sword underneath it.

The angel shoved the demon away, his feet lifting from the ground. The demon flipped backwards before gripping his spear with two hands and darting forward like a missile. Impeccable form, the angel would say if he wasn’t in a dire situation.

Counter-acting, the angel’s wings slammed down into the air, shooting himself up to dodge the assault, and the demon passed him. Exposing his back, the angel lifted a hand to summon daggers of the same godly power as his blade, thrusting them forth upon his enemy, certain he had him bested.

But the demon must have had luck in his peripherals, for a cocoon of dark dust encased his body and swallowed the daggers whole. The angel gritted his teeth as a face of utter amusement revealed itself from inside the shield.

As if luck was testing the general’s patience, a comrade whom he had recognized charged from below the hill. A radiant arrow struck the demon’s shoulder, and he shouted in pain as she cried out in battle. Her determination seeped into her attack, her own army of a dozen golden arrows materializing behind her before seeking the blood of the demon. Each one was consumed whole by the demon’s strained efforts of blocking each one, not choosing to cocoon, a decision the angel did not comprehend until it was too late.

“Get away!” the general shouted, surging forward to take whatever blow was about to land on his fellow angel. But his sword merely scratched the surface of a dark spear impaling itself into her chest. The general watched her fall to the battlefield, wings enclosing. Her body hit the ground, thumping as she went limp and joined the rest of the dead fighters.

The demon laughed. “A pity, really.”

The general was given no time to mourn, as a flaming projectile lurched from the demon’s hand at the angel’s face. It missed by a centimeter thanks to winged reflexes, in before more were launched his way. With the demon out of reach, the angel weaved in between missiles, dancing in between any opening his frolicking eyes could spot. He felt the frustration emitting from his opponent as each magic bullet missed its target.

The angel dashed forward past the projectiles and harnessed the power of his weapon. He had practiced this many times, and those many times paid him the gift of swiftness, for in a second, the sword was charged with an unimaginable force of the Heavens. In the peak of its controlled threshold, the demon followed, conjuring his own sorcery as an orb of darkness.

The angel apparently at momentary rest, the demon hurled his orb at the angel, however it never reached him. Like a gate opening for a flood, a sudden rush of energy pulsated throughout their battleground, and the angel spun at lightning speed. The tip of the outstretched sword pinpointed the very center of the orb, the trajectory tampered, and before the demon could realize it had been deflected he was struck in the chest.

As dust rose from the soil, the general came to a definite halt, wielding the sword behind him, and he peered down to see his opponent defeated. Assuring he was unconscious after a few seconds, he came to a slow descend.

Perhaps serene wasn’t the correct word when describing such gruesome acts. Ones that the general often went home to deliberate and lose sleep over. No, war was never serene. However, it was the peacefulness of the aftermath that felt encouraging. There would be an end, eventually. It may be in the form of the restful expressions of fallen ones, such as the demon laying before him, or a treaty to compromise all differences. Whatever it may, there will be an end to fight for.

At least, that is what the angel hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I'm sorry for such a late update, I promise I haven't forgotten about this story!  
> This is the first time I've written a fight scene so pls go easy on me :')  
> Also, what do you think about these new "Memories"? Who knows, they might reveal some interesting things about each characters' backstory...


	5. Unnatural Encounters

After observing the sooted walls, terrible wreckage, and overall havoc of what was once an entertainment lounge - the _only_ entertainment lounge in all of District 9 - Taemin couldn't help but feel uneasy. The evidence was right in front of them; nothing was stolen, Chan reported, just burnt and destroyed, and they had plenty of witnesses. So that just begged the questions - how did the bodies of two boys disappear from a facility with one entrance that was blocked _,_ and how was this connected to the attacks in NCity?

"Teleportation?" Seo offered for the first question, as the two stood on the tracks looking up at the broken stage.

"Possibly," Taemin murmured. "Doesn't explain the fire, though. Or supposed earthquake."

They rattled off more abilities that could match the MO and the past attacks, however, everything seemed to point to multiple, separate perpetrators. They never saw more than one person doing these attacks before, but considering that this seemed to be the successful run, including more people wouldn't be out of the question. It could also explain how two boys were taken at once.

The second question was briefly answered by District 9's Chief Im upon entering the backstage area of the lounge. Seo kindly introduced them to one another, and right away, they delved into the situation.

"Officer Wang, my colleague, spoke to Seo recently, and relayed to me that NCity was having some problems of your own," Chief Im began. "It could be a coincidence, but judging by the sheer randomness and evolvement of your guy, I thought I was best to call this in. We're short on officers to deal with something this big, anyway."

Taemin nodded.

"I'm sure the reporters are having a party right now, seeing all this NCity personnel in District 9," Taemin joked, and the men glanced at the now clear escalators. Just outside of Taemin's forcefield was a sea of journalists piling, probably desperately trying to yell alluring questions and chants to deaf ears. Good thing Taemin's ability included selective noise cancellation.

"Yeah, it surely has been awhile since District 9 got any action, besides Anti-Abnormal riots and police brutality," Im replied with a smirk.

Seo had mentioned on the way there that Im was actually the new chief, replacing what Taemin knew to be an old-fashioned elder that viewed his police force as puppets for his own malicious intentions. He had a real knack for hating people, Abnormals especially. Taemin could say he heard rumors, but naturally, he felt inclined to research District 9's history every once in a while. It was said that weak Abnormals - those with mild or defenseless abilities - were thrown to this place for a living hell. Internment camps were pretty common, banned only five years ago. Crimes against any kind of Abnormal were seen with blind eyes.

He was glad that guy was gone, now seeing a young, promising man stepping up to the plate. From what Seo had said, Im and his team are nothing like the old chief. While Im joked about the reality of District 9, Taemin knew he took his job just as seriously as the rest of them.

Im cleared his throat amidst the quiet. "Sorry, I know you guys are Abnormals. Excuse my manners."

Seo waved his hand and laughed. "Don't be sorry about speaking the truth, man. I'm sure District 9 is in good hands now, anyways. Those boys out there seem to really look up to you guys."

Chief Im smiled warmly, nodding in agreement. Quickly, the men got back to work.

Taemin's first course of action was pulling up the missing boys' records from SHINEE. Unlike the typical police force records, SHINEE housed every detail known to mankind about a person. Fingerprints, names, place of birth, and other aspects such as those were pretty standard. But SHINEE held information on a person they wouldn't even think to worry about. Taemin couldn't count on one hand how many times he's solved a case by knowing something as simple as a culprit's favorite color.

While waiting for his colleague's response, Taemin took Seo to analyze some burn marks on the right platform. It was one of the first things Taemin noticed when walking down the escalator stairs.

"Lee, I hope you know that I never doubt that big brain of yours," Seo said, peering over his shoulder form behind. "But you've been staring at those marks for about five minutes now and it's starting to concern me."

Taemin stood from his squatting position, eyes still glued to the concrete ground.

"Isn't it weird? This formation?" Taemin said, his finger tracing the circular-like shape that the fire had once made where they stood. "The boys - the Stray Kids - they said that some of them were stuck on this platform..."

Seo stepped forward, seemingly catching onto what Taemin was insinuating, but still held faint skepticism on his face.

"Well, we definitely know by now that this whole fiasco was the doing of an Abnormal - or, you know, more than one," Seo reasoned to himself out loud. "Are you saying..."

"The Abnormal has a target, like Kim had mentioned earlier today. If he has a mission, that would explain why everyone else was left alive and mostly unharmed," Taemin explained. "Like the boys stuck on this platform - he just wanted to terrorize and distract them, surrounding them with fire but never actually hurting them."

Seo rubbed his chin, expression now more convinced. "So, Minhyung was the target. Wait- but Sungchan, the other boy, he was taken too. Kim never mentioned multiple targets, and heaven knows that Kim being wrong is like demons existing."

Taemin wanted to laugh at the irony of that statement, but kept his mouth shut about that.

"I'm inclined to agree."

There was a moment of silence, and Taemin had a gut feeling that the way his gears were turning were correct, and he could tell Seo was likely on the same page judging by the distant expression.

"Could Sungchan be capable of doing this on his own?" Seo questioned, conveniently confirming Taemin's suspicions.

Before Taemin could answer, a ping rang from his watch, and he lifted his arm to check it. A new notification from Kibum showed up on his holo, and he hastily opened the email to finally get a proper read on the missing boys.

Only one profile is plastered on the screen.

**_Birth Name: Jung Sungchan_**

**_Alias: N/A_ **

**_Age: 19_ **

**_Place of Birth: NCity_ **

**_Please check one: [ ] Normal [x] Abnormal_ **

**_Description of Ability/Abilities: Ice, cold, temperature._ **

**_..._ **

Taemin's eyes skimmed over the preceding information, more interested in Key's note.

_Message from Key: Before I send you Minhyung's profile, I gotta warn you - this shit is wild._

Taemin felt his breath quicken, wondering what about this boy could be so jarring. Then he realized, if he was a target by some crazed assassin, he surely would have some kind of dirt of him. Maybe had an affiliation with some underground gang. Maybe wronged a vengeful Abnormal. Taemin figured the typical trouble a young and naive Abnormal would get into.

However, upon viewing Minhyung's profile, his eyes felt close to popping out of their sockets.

Taemin looked up at Seo. Seo blinked, awkwardly shifting in place.

"What is it?"

Taemin looked back down to his holo, completely dumbfounded as he re-read over two of the most strange boys he's ever investigated.

"I think this just got a whole lot more complicated."

* * *

Taemin is nearly undeterred when he reached the surface and a head of pink hair greeted him upon exit. If he was being honest, he expected the man to appear as early as when he was in the NCT-F station; in Taemin's eyes, the only thing surprising about this encounter was the tardiness.

Taemin spent no time wasted as he approached the man who's back was to him. He couldn't see his face but he imagined him smugly gazing at the desperate onlookers still stuck outside of the shimmering, translucent forcefield. He seemed like that kind of guy, anyway.

"Byun Baekhyun."

He turned suddenly. Indeed, he was smiling, although it was admittedly pretty friendly. Just as he suspected, the handsome narrow-faced journalist who was once just a flutter of emails and a SHINEE profile sitting in his office was now in front of him, in the flesh. Inside of the forcefield. On a crime scene. Without permission.

"You are just full of surprises, Mr. Byun," Taemin comments with a dry smile. Baekhyun leaned back to chuckle.

"I have some tricks up my sleeve," he teased, and quickly held out a hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Taemin politely shook it, hoping his millisecond of hesitance relayed a message something along the lines of _I'm being nice but you're still a trespasser._

"Impressive stuff," Baekhyun commented, finger spinning around as his eyes lingered up at the forcefield. "Took awhile for me to get through, but I'm a pretty persistent guy."

Taemin had to admit, Baekhyun's words probably would've riled him up but there was something so naturally comedic about the guy that he was more so amused than anything. He was glad Seo was catching up with him to do the confronting rather than him.

"Civilians aren't allowed here, bud," Seo ordered. "Gonna have to ask you to see yourself out."

Baekhyun puffed out his cheeks. "That's a shame. I suppose we'll have a raincheck on this conversation then, Agent Lee." He leaned in innocently. "Which, by the way, _will_ happen one way or another."

Taemin held up a hand, feeling like he was going to regret his next words but knew it should happen sooner than later.

"No need to postpone. I'll walk with you."

He watched as a bright smile appeared on Baekhyun's face.

"Ah, I knew you'd come around!"

That's how Taemin found himself shooting a look at Seo's very perplexed one, letting him know that the interaction was nothing to be concerned about. Seo was clearly still unconvinced, but nodded them off anyway.

The two men walked side by side to the outskirts, Taemin careful to make them a tunnel out of the main force field to bubble themselves privately while hungry journalists attempt to follow them. He still couldn't hear them, but seeing their persistent faces was a sight to chuckle at. They probably wondered how the infamous Byun Baekhyun managed to get exclusive one on one time with a prolific SHINEE agent - and honestly, Taemin kind of wondered that too.

Once Taemin felt like they were far enough from the scene, Taemin disconnected the tunnel, and what was left was their breathable personal bubble and a trail of reporters still trying their best.

"So, Agent Lee," Baekhyun started, "have you spotted one yet?"

While Taemin expected nothing less than eagerness out of Baekhyun, nothing could prepare him for his sheer confidence in conversation.

"One..."

"You know, a demon."

There was silence. And then, a laugh. For a moment, the journalist seemed almost worried, perhaps uneasy, behind his usual smile. But what Baekhyun didn't know was that this was the first time Taemin had ever been faced with that question before. It was so sudden that Taemin had to take the moment to digest it.

 _Really?_ Taemin thought. _This is what Baekhyun wanted to talk about?_

Certainly, when Taemin "went off track" during a case last week, Baekhyun must have known that it was for finding the cheapest coffee shop in Town Square while he was still on duty, and not some wild demon-hunting goose chase. Certainly, when Baekhyun brought up his observant skills in the email, it was to scare him, not to talk about _demons._

"You really like getting to the point, don't you?" Taemin said.

Baekhyun let out a small exhale, seemingly relieved that that was Taemin's response, and not a paragraph of ridicule.

"Can't help it. All part of the job."

Taemin nodded, deeming that a pretty reasonable explanation.

"But I think I should be the one asking you questions, Mr. Byun." Taemin looked at Baekyun in the eyes. "Who are you?"

His brief hesitance did not go unnoticed.

"A curious journalist hoping for some inside information that could change this city," he briskly explained. The poor acting did not go unnoticed, either.

"You shouldn't lie to an agent. Could get you killed," Taemin said, a slight grin on his face, but serious nonetheless.

"Okay, okay, you got me," Baekhyun surrendered, putting his hands up to match his humored smile.

Taemin could tell he was ready to spew out another narrative, but he didn't have time for that.

"Allow me to be frank," Taemin said, ready to lay out the facts to the unprepared journalist. "I've looked at your profile. You're an Abnormal with no description of your power. I'm not sure how or why you've gotten away with that for so long, but you're either an absolute nobody, or are hiding something behind all your confidence. In either situation, it doesn't seem like I can trust you. And honestly, I should arrest you, but seeing as you seemed to infiltrate my barrier, and I have no idea what else you're capable of, keeping you captive in the SHINEE headquarters might just be futile."

The corners of Baekhyun's mouth over Taemin's speech drooped lower and lower, until his smile was eventually gone. 

"Although, I'm sure I can arrange a dungeon vacancy...you know, the rumored ones you journalists like to assume about, amongst other things..."

Taemin hardly knew the guy, but seeing him speechless was a little rewarding. Although, for that same preface, he felt slightly guilty for putting him on the spot. And a little taken aback at what he was seeing.

The silence slowly became eerier and eerier. Baekhyun looked...distant. Like he was thinking on a different plane of existence. Baekhyun didn't seem worried, necessarily. He blinked once, twice, distinctly. He stared momentarily. If anything, he seemed confused. And that perplexed Taemin himself deeply. Now that he thought about it, if he knew that his profile was partially empty, what would compel him to meet with a SHINEE agent?

"You really like getting to the point, don't you?" Baekhyun finally said, chuckling, as if nothing happened.

Taemin tried searching for more, but when he received nothing, he shook off the odd feeling and decided that he had already wasted enough time.

"Takes one to know one."

Taemin started to take steps back. "Check your inbox for a fine from SHINEE, and a scheduled appointment from townhall. It's illegal to not report your powers."

He turned to fully walk away, lifting a hand to make his tunnel back to the crime scene.

"If I do that, will you have a proper meeting with me?" Baekhyun called out.

Taemin paused.

"Throw something else in the deal, and I'll see what I can do," Taemin said over his shoulder. "Stop stalking me. Before I get a restraining order, Mr. Byun."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, it's been awhile. I've spent more time disliking how I started this story and not actually continuing it, but hey! I'm back, and I hope you enjoy this one. Feedback and comments are always appreciated :)  
> At some point in time, I will probably edit earlier chapters, but I will announce that if and when it comes up.


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